


Wood For Trees

by detroit_become_writings



Series: The Adventures of Deviant Connor [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor RK800 - Freeform, Father & Son - Freeform, Hank Anderson - Freeform, Paternal Filial relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 19:32:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16708693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detroit_become_writings/pseuds/detroit_become_writings
Summary: Just good ol’ Papa Hank taking his robo son for a road trip out of town and becoming surprised by Connor’s perceptive abilities.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Check out my blog: https://detroit-become-writings.tumblr.com]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mild angst? nothing too notable

“Where are we going, Lieutenant?”

Hank grinned a little as he placed a hand inside his jacket.

“Somewhere new, Connor. Somewhere different. Figured it’s not often ya get outta your own head, let alone outta town, so…”

[scan://detect://destination_unknown]

“Forgive me for interfering, Lieutenant, but-“

“Christ, son, how many fuckin’ times I gotta say, there’s really no need for such formal-“

[database://amendment:Lieutenant=0,Dad=1]

“Got it, Hank.”

Hank bit his lip slightly as he navigated a particularly tricky junction before turning right onto the highway, drumming his fingers on the wheel. A few moments of silence passed between the old cop and his adopted robot son, who acted more like a slightly bewildered, overly-perfectionist child than anything else.

“I can’t work out why my scan results are showing negative for predicting our destination.”

“Maybe that’s ‘cause life can be hard to predict sometimes, hey kid?”

“We must be going somewhere.”

“Yeah, but ‘s really that important, Connor? Can’t ya just…I dunno, sit back ‘n enjoy the ride, for once?”

Connor swivelled his head towards Hank in an all-too mechanical way - the thing he always did when he was struggling with his emotions, the thing that wrenched Hank’s heart every time. It was paradoxical: the more Connor felt - the more he became human - the more awkward; static; robotic he was. It was almost as if he reverted to his original programming strategies the very instant that things became too much for him to process.

“My processor has computed your actions, and has returned an illogicality. It is only 6% likely that you would set off out of town without a specific destination in mind.”

Hank rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, and what else d’ya fine piece o’ art processor have to nag me about next, huh?”

“Why won’t you tell me where we’re going?!”

Hank paused, flicking his eyes towards Connor briefly, just long enough to catch a snapshot of his narrowed eyes, his tense shoulders, his fist clenched firmly around his coin. The very picture of unsettled discomfort, which would lead quickly to distress if Hank didn’t play it right. He cussed internally. He should’ve figured by now that this would be a risk. If there was one thing Connor hated, it was surprises: the lack of knowledge, or full knowledge, spooked him; unnerved him; sent his processor into a kind of rapid over-analysis mode. And whenever it happened, it was always nearly impossible to shake him out of it without Sumo’s oaf-like, slobbering presence to distract the deviant away from his own rumination.

“Alright, alright…” Hank sighed gruffly with slight exasperation, “I know ya hate the suspense, Connor, but I was only try’n’a…ah, forget it.”

Connor stared back at Hank with two perfectly round, chocolate coffee buttercream eyes. He wasn’t about to drop this any time soon.

“I’m takin’ ya to a forest.”

[!!!!!]

[STRESS LEVEL: 34% v ]

“W-why?”

“‘S just a park on a river, part of a big nature reserve. Used t’ take Cole up here on vacation sometimes, go camping…hire a boat, go fishin’… Nice…quiet…” his voice wavered slightly.

[scan://destination://confirmed//Oxbow_Park//Newaygo//Huron-Manistee_National_Forests/Michigan]

[route:calculated]

[time_remaining:1:23:34_of_2:59:00]

“We’re halfway there already?”

Hank sighed, with a knowing smile. “Trust you ‘n your goddam processor t’ ruin the surprise.”

“I’m sorry, Hank. I didn’t mean to-…it’s just-…” Connor looked down at his lap, an air of disappointment in his tone, his LED flashing yellow, “I find the concept of surprise real difficult to compute.”

Hank glanced back over at Connor, the knowing grin broadening. Chuckling, he drummed the steering wheel with his fingers.

“It’ll be worth the suspense, kiddo - trust me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of this fic exploring how Connor’s extreme perceptive abilities can teach both the human and the android valuable lessons on life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mild angst, mention of deceased son, anxiety. But also happy feels...<3

“We’re here?”

“We’re here.” Hank slammed the car door, stepping out into the still-warm early September sunshine with a glint in his eye, striding over towards the belligerent android who’d sprung from the car the moment they parked up and raced over towards the boating pier, drinking in his surroundings with a yellow LED.

“Well? Whaddya think?” Hank showed up beside him, hand in pocket, the other hand firmly clasping Connor’s shoulder. His son glitched slightly.

“I-…”

[location:unlocked//Big-Muskegon-River]

[attractions:available//boating/fishing/waterskiing/swimming/…DOWNLOADING: 4 of 43]

“…I…what are we do-…?” he looked back at Hank with a kind of puzzlement.

“…we’re doin’ nothin’, Connor.” The wise cop grinned back, “Just relax…y’know, enjoy the view.”

[ERROR://enjoy-the-view.exe//program_file_not_found]

“Too damn lost in ya processor, huh?” Hank chuckled, “Alright, look, maybe we should do summat…y’ wanna go for a walk along the river?”

[PRE-CONSTRUCT://river//water//high_risk_factor:drowning]

“I-I don’t think we sh-…”

Too late. Hank had already pulled him along by the arm and was strolling along the riverbank, soaking up the slightly orange-red-yellow hues of the turn of the season; marvelling at the piercing, clear blue sky doubled by the glassy blue river, with next to no ripples save for the gentle splash of a fish somewhere and a few waterfowl somewhere else.

Nice. Quiet. These were both accurate descriptions, Connor agreed silently.

The pair stopped awhile on the edge of the river, overlooking a dense area of forest. Hank turned to Connor, noticing his LED which was still flickering yellow, his brow slightly furrowed, eyes slightly narrowed.

“What’s the matter? Can’t relax?”

Connor clenched his fist around his coin again…a hint of sorrow in his eyes.

“Connor, y’ ever heard of the sayin’: can’t see the wood for trees?”

Brown eyes darted back to Hank’s; curious, open…and Hank gazed back over the forest of fall-tipped trees on the opposite bank, placing a heavy arm firmly around the android’s shoulders.

“Means when you’re so focussed on every lil’ last detail, y’ forget t’ see the bigger picture of where you really are…in this world, in this time, in this place.”

Connor paused, biting his lip slightly. “When I look at a woodland area or a forest, I compute every single tree as an individual item, and log each one in my processor. The oak tree, the beech tree, the birch, the yew; categorised into the deciduous, and the coniferous…”

Hank snorted, “No wonder y’ can’t relax!”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Damn straight!” Hank glanced back at him through almost disbelieving eyes, “Y’ mean a processor as advanced as yours can’t even compute a forest?!”

“I can. I just have to save every file in a series of folders and collate the information. It can take a while to build up a complete picture.”

“So y’ can’t just…y’know, look at your surroundings an’ just-”

“I always know every detail of my surroundings, Hank; I-I can’t help it.” Connor swallowed, “The only way to override that would be to disable some programming features, which could theoretically destabilise my entire system.”

“Well, don’t do that…”

“Is there any way I can learn how to…see the wood, instead of just the trees?”

Hank paused. “Not summat I’ve thought about much, t’ be honest. How to help a perfect being like you become less…ha…perfect.”

“But I’m not perfect.” Connor’s eyes were wide, vulnerable. “I’m a machine, designed for specific purposes. There are so many things I can’t do, Hank…so much in the human world I’m not capable of achieving.” His eyes darkened, heavy with sadness, “I can’t watch a sunset without computing the RGB colour changes in realtime. I can’t watch a movie without pre-constructing a character’s every action. I can’t look at a forest and just…see a forest…I see too much, Hank…”

Connor interrupted his own rant to stare shamefully down at his own feet. He continued, mumbling, “My CyberLife program was the only thing that saved me from [system:override]. I filtered information based on my mission, and that’s why I was never scared by any of it, never overwhelmed.” He swallowed again, “But…but now? Now I don’t have a mission? A program? Now I’m not being designated tasks that my computer mind has to complete?!”

Connor’s eyes shone back at Hank, brimming with loss, pain, “I see detail, not design; I see a person’s eye colour, not their eyes. It’s like I’m just…I’m too advanced for the world, Hank. I know too much. I feel too much. Too much information, too much disorganised data without a reason, stops me from processing…anything.”

Hank stared back at his son with eyes that could’ve held him close and never let go; eyes that wanted to erase all of his pain. And with that, he pulled the sorry deviant close, wrapping him in his signature Papa Bear hug, while Connor nuzzled into his jacket, burying his face in Hank’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, kid. It’s alright. We all experience the world different ways - after all…would be hella boring if we were all the same.”

Connor lifted his head, silent tears staining his synthetic cheeks. “I wasn’t designed to be different; to be imperfect.”

“No. But y’ know what? If you were just the same as all those other RK800 models produced by CyberLife, y’ wouldn’t be Connor.” His soft blue eyes smiled down at Connor’s brown. “Wouldn’t be my Connor, the one who chose t’ save an ol’ cop’s life at the expense of completing his mission: who’s an expert dog walker, constant source o’ that kinda curiosity that only kids seem to have - y’know, you might not be some kinda spacetime junkie but you’ve turned back the clock for me, Connor. Having you in my life…it’s added years to the life I didn’t even wanna keep livin’. And not to mention you fanboy Knights of the Black Death so much harder than I ever will…” He dabbed at Connor’s cheek almost fussily with his sleeve, patting him on the head comfortingly. “Y’see? We’ve all got a purpose, even if it’s not the one we thought it was.” Hank took a deep breath, staring out over the river. “Jeez, if you’da told me I’d end up…y’know…actin’ like a father all over again-” his chest hitched slightly, his pulse raised.

Connor stared at him, eyes widened with concern. “Is everything alright…Dad?”

[Cole leapt out from behind a bush, rushing towards Hank with his signature cheeky grin, and slightly grazed, knobbly kneecaps, “Heard ya yellin’, Dad, did you catch a fish? Was it a real big one? Like…this big, the biggest fish ever?”]

...Hank’s eyes had glazed over slightly, staring hard at the bush in front of them, before something suddenly caught up with him.

“Wait, Connor…what did y’ just call me…?”

Connor raised one corner of his mouth into his signature lopsided grin: “You told me not to call you Lieutenant.”

“And I told you to stay in the goddam car at that first crime scene, but did ya listen?” Hank chuckled, ruffling Connor’s hair.

“I listened this time, Dad.”

Hank paused again. “You really see me like that, do ya?”

“You’ve referred to me as your son approximately 253 times since we’ve been residing in the same household, so I assumed it would be appropriate to select a more familial term with which to address you.”

Hank cracked up. There were tears in his eyes. “Y’know, someday we might get ya t’ stop talkin’ like Mr Spock. Or maybe we won’t. Maybe you’ll always find it hard t’ see the bigger picture n’ all that shit.” He hugged him tighter. “But y’know what? I reckon you’ll crack this code. You’ll work out how t’ do it in a way that feels right for you. There’s no rulebook on life, Connor. Everybody’s gotta do with what they got, and just so happens…you got a lot.”

Connor looked back at the river. At the trees on the other riverbank. Then, he glanced back at Hank, his eyes suddenly brightened.

“Hey, Dad…I’ve just noticed there’s a forest over there! It looks amazing! Can we go exploring? Please?!”


End file.
